


Gifted and Talented

by dimeliora



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Jensen, First Time, Hurt Jensen Ackles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimeliora/pseuds/dimeliora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared, a world-renowned chess player and huge geek, meets Jensen Ackles the boxer. Sparks fly, but Jared learns that being gifted and talented in academic pursuits means nothing in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gifted and Talented

**Title:** Gifted and Talented  
 **Author:** [](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/profile)[**dimeliora**](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/)  
 **Wordcount:** 5,172  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairing(s):** Jared/Jensen  
 **Beta(s):** Ha ha, none this time due to a late finish.  
 **Prompt(s):** Written for the [](http://smpc.livejournal.com/profile)[**smpc**](http://smpc.livejournal.com/) and the wonderful [](http://kiltsocks.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kiltsocks.livejournal.com/)**kiltsocks** , who deserved a better birthday gift and I am going to try to make her one.  
 **Disclaimer:** This never happened. At least not in this universe.  
 **Summary:** Jared, a world-renowned chess player and huge geek, meets Jensen Ackles the boxer. Sparks fly, but Jared learns that being gifted and talented in academic pursuits means nothing in love.

 

  
“I don’t need to get out Jeff, I need to practice.” Jared resets the pieces and watches as his old professor rubs at his beard before settling back into his seat and staring at the board.

“No, son, you definitely need to get out. You’ve been locked in this house practicing since you were eight. It’s time to _get out_.”

Jared wants to argue, and he probably could because on top of being one of the world’s most prolific chess players he’s a master debater. The problem is that a part of him wants Jeff to be right, to win this fight, because Jared’s been working for these titles since he was a little boy and that sort of practicing and researching really takes a toll on your social life.

Or it would. If Jared had ever _had_ a social life.

He has a remarkable fantasy life, a large collection of porn, and a fair set of muscles from running and training. He’s got Jeff, and his family, and a few of his fellow competitors to talk to if he’s in need. Which is great, and he loves them and wouldn’t trade them for the world, but every now and then Jared wishes he had…someone. Someone who looks at him the way he’s seen in movies. Someone who would teach him to kiss, go with him to movies, _make him_ go to movies.

 “What was the suggestion again?” Jared slides a pawn forward, considers it for a moment, and then removes his hand and leaves it there.

Jeff does not take his move. “I got a couple friends gathering for an event tonight. Very private and local. Just the kind of thing you need, kid.”

And that’s how Jared finds himself sitting in a front row seat at a V.I.P. boxing match with Jeff beside him and the most beautiful man he’s ever seen dancing around the canvas in front of him.

 

\----

 

 

It’s not that he’s never seen combat before. When he was younger Jared was a slight kid, bony and awkward, and full of hobbies that were only suitable for nerds and social outcasts. As a result he can’t count how many times he’s ended up in bathrooms with his head drenched in toilet water and shame, how many bruises and welts he’s gone home with, and the number of times he’s seen brute physical force applied to a problem that would be better solved with words.

For all intents and purposes this should be the antithesis of what Jared wants to see. There’s no reason for him to like it, all his memories of it are negative, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s a terrible beauty in the spectacle before him.

The boxer, dirty-blonde hair spiked and full pink lips stretched over a mouth guard, is all muscle and grace.  His feet move smoothly across the ring, hands up at all times and ready to dart out when he shifts his body weight into the punch or pulling up to cover while he dances backwards.

Jared feels Jeff’s gaze on him but he can’t help but lick his lips when the boxer turns their way for just a second and Jared sees the green-gold eyes the fighter is sporting. Then the fighter throws a punch that sends the taller man in front of him reeling backwards.

“Amazing isn’t he? He was a student of mine too, for a little while.”

He can’t take his eyes off the guy, just stares as he fumbles for an answer.

“Philosophy? That guy studied philosophy with you?”

A low chuckle, a pat on his shoulder, and Jared finally finds the power to look over at Jeff and see the smirk.

“Yes he did. If you really want I’ll take you to meet him after the fight.”

“I would like that very much.”

 

\----

The boxer wins the match. It goes four full rounds and by the last one it’s obvious that the guy is just playing with his opponent. Dragging it out for a better show. Jared’s too enamored with the movement of his body, with the flow of muscle under taut skin, to catch what the man’s name is.

And in the rush of victory, the cheers and shouts of the crowd, Jared is carried on his own adrenaline from watching and doesn’t think to ask Jeff. They end up in a locker room and Jared gets his first up close look at the boxer there.

Without the distance and the ropes between them the man is even more beautiful. Jaw no longer distended by the guard his mouth is sensual and strong, complimenting the boxy chin and high defined cheekbones. Long lashes hang over those hypnotic eyes, and Jared realizes too late that a hand is extended to him and has been for some time.

Jeff is laughing his ass off.

He reaches out and takes the hand, still wrapped in bandages even though the glove is off, and shakes it once. The boxer’s grip is strong, not aggressive but forceful, and Jared can’t help but think of what it would be like on other parts of him. What a grip like that could do moving against his skin.

It takes everything he has to swallow down his arousal and not shift self-consciously to hide his erection.

“Hi. I-I’m Ja-Jared-“

“Padalecki.” The fighter’s voice is warm, masculine, and just as sexy as the rest of him. Jared tries not to quake.

“Yeah. How’d you know that?”

The guy still has his hand, and a devious smile curls those lips.

“Who wouldn’t know the inventor of the Padalecki Pass? I’m a big fan. Jensen Ackles.”

Jared’s staring slack-jawed now. He can feel it. Knows that he needs to close his mouth and get that dumb blank look off his face, but it’s so hard to focus when the sum of all his fantasies is standing right in front of him holding his hand and smelling like sweat and success.

Claiming to be a fan.

“Of me?”

“Well Chess in specific, but I guess you in general. Are you gonna let go of my hand?”

And he does, practically flails backwards as he releases and stumbles into Jeff. It’s embarrassing, gains the laughter of both men, and Jared feels the dull flush that comes with failing socially for the eight thousandth time in his life.

“Sorry. Sorry about that.” Jared wishes he could crawl back into his house and set up his board. Focus on strategy instead of his incredibly weak social skills. Something he’s actually good at.

“No problem, man. So, Professor Morgan dragging you around for the night?” Jensen’s still grinning, and Jared watches as the man starts unwrapping his hands.

“Unfortunately no, he’s not.” Jared whirls, looks at his old teacher to find the man holding his cell phone and smiling maniacally. “Professor Morgan just got a message to come home to his wife. I don’t suppose you could keep Jared for the night could you Jensen? Make sure he doesn’t just go home and hide out with his chess set?”

Jared’s not sure if he hates Jeff or loves him in this moment.

“I don’t think keeping him for a night will be a problem at all.” Jensen’s grin is wicked, eyes crinkling as he drops the wrappings, and Jared’s heart skips several beats.

Yeah. He loves Jeff a lot.

 

\----

 

The night has been excellent. Jensen has an amazing sense of humor, hasn’t stopped making Jared laugh since they slid into his car and headed for the bar. Jensen’s sharp, wit mixed with warmth, and Jared finds himself leaning over the table and staring like an idiot for the parts of the night he’s not gulping down beers or laughing so hard his eyes tear up.

Jared doesn’t go out a lot and he knows that probably shows, but Jensen doesn’t say anything about it. Every time things get awkward, when Jared doesn’t get a pop culture reference or doesn’t have his own partying anecdotes Jensen rolls over it seamlessly as if nothing had happened.

It’s freeing. Without the crippling fear of being publicly humiliated or losing any chance at all of staring at this gorgeous man for another few minutes Jared’s voice gains traction. It’s not just Jensen talking anymore.

Suddenly Jared’s telling him about the first time he met Chad, a fellow competitor from New York and Jared’s best friend, and how he had to lie to their chaperones about why Chad was late to the match. The official story went that Jared set the alarm for his usual time, and his roommate just missed it and had a late start. The actual story went more like Chad came back to the room at three in the morning with a pair of panties stretched over his head and reeking of alcohol.

He tries to match Jensen beer for beer, gets a light taunt about how badly he’s sweating in the packed bar and laughs it off without insult, and after a little while the background blurs and all that exists is Jensen and his smile, the laugh that seems to wrap around Jared like a favorite old coat, and the sparkle in those green eyes.

Well, that’s not exactly true. Every now and then Jensen licks his lips and Jared’s eyes follow as his cock gives an appreciative twitch. Jensen’s hands are strong, warm, scarred, and they reach out constantly to touch one of Jared’s hands, to brush his hair back casually like its nothing, and one memorable time to tweak Jared’s nose before Jensen burst into guffaws so deep he was bent over.

So yeah, Jensen is an excellent human being. He’s also the hottest thing Jared has ever seen and without a doubt he spends the night praying that this will go the way it goes on movies and television. That Jensen isn’t just being nice to his old professor’s dorky protégé, and that at the end of this trip maybe Jared will break one of his many, many cherries.

That would be nice.

 

\---

 

 

 

Jared is drunk. He knows he’s drunk, knows that he should probably ask Jensen to call him a cab or take him home, but instead he’s standing in the living room of Jensen’s condo laughing too loud as Jensen explains to him his training regimen.

It’s not even supposed to be funny.

At some point he gets another beer, Jensen’s eyes twinkling brightly, and that’s when Jared takes a moment to look around the room. There are posters everywhere, chess competition posters and huge portraits of Kasparov and Capablanca, one of Deep Blue itself, and to the far right is one of Jared.

He recognizes the setting first, and then realizes that the willowy kid sitting in the chair with a look of deep concentration on his narrow face is Jared at 15, the first year he played in Berlin. He didn’t win that one, but for a fifteen-year-old he placed high enough to put his name on the map.

Jared swallows and then gestures at the poster. “You really are a fan.”

There’s a waver to Jensen’s smile but it resolves itself quickly and becomes a relaxed and simple thing again. “Said I was didn’t I?”

And yeah, he had, but Jared had assumed he knew about chess from Jeff, and that he was using that knowledge to be kind. Apparently Jared was dead wrong.

“Holy shit you’re a groupie.” The second it’s out of his mouth Jared is ashamed, but the beer has loosened his tongue too much to hope for control.

Jensen laughs though, eyes crinkling and mouth curling up, before he puts his beer down and crosses the room. Suddenly Jared has a lap full of Jensen, and his brain has completely shut off for the first time in his entire life.

“You bang a lot of groupies Jared?” It’s light, flirtatious, and Jared wants nothing more than to follow through with the game. He doesn’t even know where it’ll end, but he wants that more than anything.

“My fair share?”

The laugh again, and then plush, slick lips push against his and Jared’s erection is all-consuming as he tastes Jensen for the first time. His hand moves without him, slides into Jensen’s tousled hair and tangles there as he responds to the kiss.

Jared pushes his tongue against Jensen’s lips, feels the reverberating moan when Jensen opens his mouth and accepts him. He’s tempted to open his eyes, just to see what Jensen looks like when he’s like this, but there’s too much to focus on otherwise.

Jensen shifts slightly and Jared feels an answering hard-on pressed against his, two layers of denim adding friction but denying full pleasure as Jensen writhes on his lap. They finally break the kiss, and Jared manages to open his eyes long enough to focus on the swollen lips and sparkling eyes of the man he’s possibly going to sleep with tonight.

God he wants to sleep with him.

And then Jensen is standing and dragging Jared back down the hall and into a bedroom. It’s decorated in cool tones, masculine without being overbearing, and there’s a small table set up under the window with a marble chess set halfway through a game.

That’s all Jared gets for details, because Jensen is undressing right in front of him and Jared can’t look away. His hands flex compulsively at his sides as Jensen finishes removing his shirt and reaches for his belt.

“You’re good for this right?” Jensen stops in the process of kicking off his shoes and Jared has to stop and replay the words in his head several times before they make sense.

“Y-yeah. Yeah of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jensen grins again. “Because you ain’t undressing.”

He launches into action, moving too fast and tripping when his pants get tangled over his shoes. When he finally gets it undone and looks up half-dressed and mostly stable he sees that Jensen is totally nude.

Jared saw him shirtless in the ring, but this is different. The light from the room is softer than the arena, and it hugs somehow along the lines of Jensen’s body. Freckles dust his skin and his cock bobs swollen and eager between his legs. There’s a scar that crosses his right hip, the only marring of what seems like perfection.

Swallowing reflexively Jared pushes off his own underwear and then gestures to the bed. He knows enough to understand the basics of how this works. Porn suggests that he should get on all fours and present, and while it feels stupid and ridiculous he does it anyway and hopes that there’s some grace to the maneuver.

There’s laughter again, and Jared flushes everywhere and feels his erection wilt a bit. Of course he fucked it up. Why wouldn’t he?

“Not like that.”

It takes a lot of his remarkably untested courage to look over his shoulder and see that Jensen is still hard, still looks interested, but there’s a hunger that wasn’t there before.

“On-on my back?”

Jensen grins and then crosses the carpet soundlessly before pushing at Jared’s hip and easily flipping him over.

“Yeah.” Jensen licks those plush lips again and then sinks down onto his knees in front of the bed. “Yeah, on your back.”

And then those lips are traveling up his legs, tongue poking out and dragging every now and then until they reach his sack and suddenly Jensen is full out licking before dragging his hot mouth over the tight skin of Jared’s full balls.

He can’t come. He can’t come yet because this is hopefully only the beginning and coming now will let Jensen know that he’s not experienced, not skilled, just some big geeky virgin who’s playing off of internet porn rules.

When Jensen slides his mouth up over Jared’s cock and then spreads his lips open to take Jared in that’s it. He has to close his eyes because he cannot look at the hunger in Jensen’s gaze, can’t see that wet mouth sucking him in, and not come instantly.

Jared tries to ride it out, blanket clutched in his hands and eyes squeezed shut as he flexes his thigh muscles trying to not buck up into the heat of Jensen’s mouth.

Time both stands still and accelerates as Jared’s heart slams against his chest and he pants shallowly gasping Jensen’s name helplessly. There’s a sound that he can’t recognize, wet and thick, and he’s half-sure it’s not the blowjob but there’s really no telling.

He’s too far gone to be logical about that.

“Je-Jensen you gotta-you gotta stop. I’m gonna-“

“Not yet you’re not.” Jared opens his eyes and sees the wicked smirk on Jensen’s face. “Dick that big can’t go to waste sweetheart.”

And then Jensen is sliding a condom onto him, climbing over Jared, and he has just enough time to realize he completely misread this too before Jensen is lining him up and sinking down his shaft.

Tight. Tight and hot, lube squelching quietly as Jared’s cock is encased in Jensen. His hands fly off the blanket, grip tightly on Jensen’s hips, and something about the action ramps up Jensen’s moans.

When he was eight the school system marked Jared as gifted and talented, and everything after that was a rigidly set path that led him to endless nights spent alone in hotel rooms or stuck with a myriad of fellow competitors some of whom were incapable of even _pretending_ to not hate him. Minus a few exceptions his entire life was working towards the goals he had set himself.

Jared doesn’t feel so gifted and talented now. He doesn’t have the experience or the understanding to be smooth, but he’s got enough intuition to know that if Jensen liked having his hips grabbed then maybe the right approach is the instinctive one.

He flexes his fingers in, surges his hips upwards, and watches Jensen’s mouth fall open and his neck stretch as he curves backwards and his hands scramble at Jared’s chest.

And then Jensen is full out riding him, that husky voice dropping the dirtiest things Jared has ever heard as strong fingers slide up and press into his shoulders and his ass flexes and flutters around Jared’s dick.

“I knew it-knew it- fuck you’re so big and hot. I knew you’d be a fucking animal.”

He _feels_ like an animal, his orgasm nearing too quickly and feet pressing into the bed hard as he snaps his hips up over and over again spearing Jensen down onto his dick and gasping loudly.

“Holy-holy shit Jensen. I-I-“ He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say. Doesn’t know how to articulate all the things he’s feeling as he remembers courtesy and grabs shakily at Jensen’s dick before he starts to jerk him off.

Jensen begins to move spastically, bucking and writhing, mouth releasing pleading moans before he goes rigid on Jared’s dick and spurts in his hand. It’s the most beautiful thing Jared has ever seen, and the pull of Jensen’s muscles milk his own orgasm out of him as he empties into his condom.

 

\----

 

It becomes a thing. Twice a week Jared finds himself in Jensen’s condo, usually in Jensen’s bed. One memorable time it happens against the wall of the bedroom, Jensen hanging in his trembling arms as Jared thrusts into his tight body.

They go out to bars, hang out on the couch and watch movies, and just generally have an amazing time together. Jared loves Jensen. Legitimately loves him and it’s only partially related to the incredible number of orgasms Jensen gives him.

Jensen cooks like a dream, greets Jared on more than a few nights with huge delicious meals that Jared wolfs down happily as he tries to remember to swallow before he talks about his day. Jensen honestly seems amused whenever he forgets, and he forgets a lot.

He’s smart, starts discussions that Jared takes home with him and reviews over and over before he inevitably calls Jensen up in the middle of the night to make a new point or argue an old one. They balance action flicks with indie movies that Jensen likes to dissect every aspect of.

The man has a wonderful sense of humor, makes Jared laugh even when he’s stressed out about upcoming competitions or the need to train.

All in all he’s a treasure and Jared can’t remember what life was like before Jensen came into it. That being said he knows better than to get starry-eyed and ridiculous. It’s not what Jensen wants, and Jared has to work hard to keep up the impression of being unaffected by the whole thing.

Sometimes he doesn’t answer the phone when Jensen calls, pretends he’s busy and not constantly waiting with his cell in his hand for Jensen to call. Chad’s chomping at the bit to meet “Jared’s Groupie” but he holds back on that too because there’s no doubt Chad will out him for the loser he is.

Jensen is interested in meeting his friends too, but Jared finds logical reasons why he shouldn’t every time. And if he notices a slight dimming in Jensen’s eyes? A tension after each joking excuse that doesn’t fit the rest of their dynamic? Well he brushes it off as nothing. After all they meet Jensen’s friends sometimes at the bar, and Jared’s pretty sure Jensen’s huge circle of outgoing and boisterous people would make his life look even more pathetic by comparison.

Gifted and talented they said, and if you put an equation or a piece of literature in front of Jared he would prove it every time.

Turns out, gifted and talented doesn’t mean anything when it comes to human relations.

 

\----

 

It comes to a head one night right after dinner. Jensen’s got a weird expression on his face that Jared can’t decipher and cannot seem to approach. It concerns him, reminds him that this is temporary and if he doesn’t stay cool and interesting it will end sooner than he can handle.

Although he’s beginning to think any ending is too soon.

“I was thinking, you said you like to practice against people right? But Jeff and Chad aren’t reliably free?”

Jared looks up surprised, fork halfway to his mouth, and then slowly lowers it without taking the bite.

“Yeah?”

“Well,” Jensen flushes, freckles standing out marvelously, and it’s so delicate and out of character on Jensen that Jared wants to lean over the table and kiss him. “If you ever wanted to practice with me we could?”

Jared laughs. It’s instinctive really, it doesn’t mean anything, but the way Jensen’s eyes darken tell him everything he needs to know. He’s fucked up, big time, and there’s no getting it back once he’s done it.

“No wait- Jensen I’m not.”

“It’s fine. I get it Jared.” He stands and Jared can already see him receding emotionally further than his lithe body is capable of in the condo. “Let me get dessert.”

But it’s not fine and Jensen doesn’t get it.

“I didn’t mean to laugh it’s just that you don’t have to-I mean I know what this is Jensen. You don’t have to pretend that it’s more.”

Jensen’s back goes taut, shoulders high, and without turning he speaks in a flat and dead voice.

“What is it?”

“Two guys having fun.” It’s more a question than an answer now, because Jensen isn’t shrugging this one off. He’s not laughing anymore, and Jared is starting to get nervous.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. I need you to leave now.”

“Jensen I-“

“Leave. I’m not having _fun_ anymore.”

And Jared stumbles up and out of the door, stinging from the rejection and fully aware that he’s made some vital mistake he doesn’t understand.

 

 

\-----

 

Two weeks. Two weeks of hell later and Jared doesn’t know how he’s going to get through it. He’s competed miserably twice, spent more than a few hours listening to Chad’s version of comfort, and god he never _ever_ wants to hear that again.

At first he told himself he’d retain his dignity, but that lasted about a day and a half. After that it was unanswered phone calls, ignored text messages, and desperate emails that never bounced back, but never got a reply either.

It’s Jeff that breaks it. His old professor shows up in the middle of the night and knocks Jared’s chess set off its stand and onto the floor before pushing Jared out of his chair. It’s the most aggression Jeff has ever shown anyone in front of Jared, and it’s honestly a little frightening.

“I’m gonna tell you a story kid. When I finish that story you have about two seconds to prove you’re not as stupid as I’m beginning to believe you are. You got me?”

Jared stares at Jeff blankly. He hasn’t been sleeping well and this is honestly blowing his mind a little.

“’Bout ten years ago you wouldn’t a recognized Jensen if you saw him. Cute little thing, twinky as hell, and in the kinda relationship Lifetime makes movies about. One day his lousy, son of a bitch boyfriend comes home and takes a pair of steel-toed boots to Jensen. Which means Jen ends up in the hospital with a couple broken bones and a fair number of stitches.”

Jared thinks of the scar on Jensen’s hip. How when he asked about it Jensen only said it was a lesson and nothing else.

“Minute he gets out of the hospital he decides that he’s going into training. Starts bulking up, becomes every physical cliché of the alpha male he possibly can in the interest of nobody ever treating him that way again. Except, and you may have noticed, Jen’s got a preference and the kinda guy he looks like ain’t the kinda guy people think he is. That being said, suddenly he finds this big, gentle-hearted kid that wants to be with him and treats him nice, plus can satisfy him. Jensen’s over the moon. But the kid won’t introduce him to his friends, kid makes fun of his intelligence, and then the kid tells him he’s just a fling. So Jensen goes into self-destruct mode, and now he’s in his condo after a fight he shouldn’t have taken with some serious bruising and thinking it’s no less than what he deserved for being so stupid.”

Jensen is…Jared pushes up from the floor. He doesn’t need Jeff to go on and he doesn’t need to reply. Jared grabs his keys and practically runs for the door. It takes twenty-five minutes to get to Jensen’s condo and it’s a miracle he doesn’t get pulled by the cops on the way.

The door is shut, lights off, but Jared starts pounding and doesn’t stop until Jensen opens it.

And there it is. Jensen’s right eye is swollen shut, lower lip split, and he’s hunched a bit with an icepack pressed against his ribs. He peers at Jared from one eye, no emotions showing at all.

“I’m an idiot.”

Jensen snorts and steps back to let Jared in.

“Drive all the way out here to tell me that? I _know_ that.”

“You let me in.” Jared’s grasping at words, trying to remember any one of a number of debate skills he’s picked up over the years in the hopes that one of them will allow him to articulate some kind of fucking sentiment to make Jensen forgive him.

“Yeah, you were kinda risking my neighbors calling the cops Jared. Want to tell me what the issue is before I kick you out again?” Jensen moves slow, body tight, and collapses into a chair with a groan.

“No you-you _let me in_.”

Jensen raises one eyebrow, swollen face pulled into a funny look. “What?”

And that’s it. That’s all that Jared can take. He’s misjudged everything about Jensen since the beginning, read the book by its cover instead of considering the contents he’d thought he was studying. It’s time to prostrate himself and hope for better.

Jared takes this literally, and goes to his knees in front of Jensen. The older man is visibly shocked, hissing when that pulls on his lip.

“I thought-oh Jesus-I was a virgin.”

There’s dead silence, and then Jensen’s voice cracks when he responds. “What the-the one time you bottomed?”

“No.” Jared can feel his flush, but he pushes through. “No the-all the times. All of them. There was a guy in Dusseldorf that kissed me when I was nineteen, but other than that everything we’ve done together is new.”

Jensen’s mouth is open, icepack slipping out of his loose grasp, and Jared grabs it and presses gently against the spot Jensen was icing.

“No you weren’t.”

Well maybe they both misjudged each other.

“Yeah. Yeah Jen, I was. I just didn’t-I didn’t know how relationships worked and I wanted you to like me _so bad_. You were so confident and you just knew what you wanted and I-I just wanted you. So I did what I thought you wanted and one of those things seemed to be casual, but that was obviously wrong. And I-I don’t want casual. I love you. I mean all of you even the pre-coffee bitchiness and the weird towel folding thing-“

“It saves room in the linen closet.” Jensen’s eye is a bit more alive, and there’s a careful quirk to his lip.

“Yeah. Yeah that OCD thing. I love all of that stuff, and I love you, and I just-I just can’t go on this way. I’m so sorry Jensen. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I don’t know how to be in a relationship, I don’t _have_ friends to introduce you to other than Chad and Jeff, and you don’t wanna meet Chad, and I just-I just thought wrong and I never bothered to ask. But I should have.”

“Yeah. Yeah you should have Jay.”

It’s the nickname that does him in. Jensen’s forgiving him, and the tone gives him away. Jared wraps his arm around Jensen’s knees and presses his face into strong, muscular thighs.

“I love you. I love you. Please forgive me and be serious boyfriends with me.”

And there it is. There’s the laugh he fell for first, and when he looks up Jensen’s face is pained and amused all at once.

“First thing we do is teach you how to talk like you’re in an adult relationship.”

Jared answers Jensen’s laugh with a grin, pushes up to carefully kiss the undamaged half of his mouth.

“Ok. But before that, can I carry your big ass to bed and blow you? The movies say that’s the way couples make up.”

Jensen presses his forehead against Jared’s one hand playing with his hair and the other helping hold the icepack.

“You’re watching the right movies at least.”   



End file.
